


Wanting

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Sapphic Girls Stereotypes Alignment Chart - bedupolker
Genre: F/F, Friendship, Gen, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: Liz can't help but pine for her friend Melody. Or, two girls at brunch.





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariesspicy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariesspicy/gifts).



Neither of them quite remembers how they met but now they have a ritual to go to brunch about twice a month on Saturdays and discuss their lives while eating pancakes and sipping on one fruity drink or another. Melody tries very hard to not be distracted by her phone and Liz tries hard to not wish she was a little more like Melody while still being like herself. 

Melody’s life is oddly chaotic and exciting all at once. Her job takes up ungodly amounts of time, and yet she is also always dating someone. She always looks great. She always has something smart, or witty, or interesting to say. Liz is always a little too into her. 

This particular day, however, it’s Liz who tries hard to ignore that temptation to look at her phone. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to hear about how Melody’s exotic and expensive exploits with some new gorgeous woman have left her mildly sleep-deprived and with hickeys she struggles to cover up. It’s just that, for once, Liz has something exciting of her own going on other than one of the posts on her blog getting actual traction. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be TMI,” Melody says at the end of a long anecdote. “I know you said you’ve been busy and that you wanted to meet a little earlier because of that. What’s been going on?”

Liz flushes a little. Her activities suddenly don’t sound so exciting when someone asks about them outright. “I’m going canvasing. The election is only two weeks away and we’re only two points down in the 25th. That’s within the margin of error. This last push is going to be everything.”

Melody makes that face that means she can’t relate, though she’s trying to understand. “I can’t imagine going door to door like a solicitor. Don’t people get angry?”

“Sometimes. But it’s not so bad. And it’s the main way we’re going to win this thing.”

“Mmmhhhmm.” Melody sips on her mimosa. “Are Jacky and Dez going with you?”

“Yea.” Dez took a some time to convince to come out, but Liz won her over, finally. Jackey was always on board. “I think you said a friend of yours might be interested in some information?”

Melody nods. “Amaya. Can I give her your number?”

“Sure!”

Amaya was Melody’s friend for childhood. From what Liz knew about her she was nerdy, spent her days playing video games and watching anime. The kind of girl who cried if she missed snagging comic con tickets and knew far too much trivia about Star Trek. Liz could never have imagined that two people as different as Amaya and Melody could be friends. Although, perhaps that is unfair, since Liz and Melody are different as well. Liz tries to think of other friends that Melody has but can only think of her frenemies. Like—

“So, what is happening with Zoya?”

“Oh God.” Melody rubs a hand over her forehead. “Don’t remind me. She’s such a—I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s good at her job. But I still think I should make partner first. At the very least, I’d just like to know that if someone gets it before me, that it’s because they deserve it more, not because the partners finds her so hot.”

“You’re hot,” Liz says without thinking and instantly claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that’s not…I didn’t mean—” she stutters uselessly, going bright red. 

“Thanks,” Melody laughs. “But you know how straight men are – the nine inch heals, the long legs coming out of a almost-too-short-for-work skirt, the long blowout-fresh hair. That’s what they want to see. _Women_ think I’m to die for. Men wish I’d put on a dress and float when I walk. Meanwhile, I have actual work to do.” Almost as though to punctuate the point, Melody’s phone pings. Granted, Liz never knows if that is a work e-mail coming in or a text from one of the five or so women Melody is flirting with at any given time. Melody has even made some straight women doubt themselves, not to mention any girl who already knows she’s not straight. 

But Melody does have one point: she never applies traditional western beauty standards to herself too hard. She wears pantsuits and very short heals. She wears her hair short and her makeup as minimal and natural as possible. She’s stunning, but not in a way straight men react to. Zoya, from everything Liz has heard, is a high fashion magazine model come to life. They are both passionate sharks in the workplace, but the way they present themselves is different, and Melody is always anxious about whether this will hurt her chances of making partner first. 

Sometimes, Liz wonders if Melody secretly likes Zoya. They would be just that perfect match of opposites-attract while still having a lot of the same values and goals. Also, as far as Liz could tell, Zoya is very much like the girl Melody was in love with in high school. It’s not something Melody talks about a lot, but Liz has seen and heard bits of pieces of the story, small shards of a teenage girl’s broken heart cutting through her adult confidence and image management. 

Melody had been student council president. Alexandria had been Prom Queen and a cheerleader. She had also been straight. Liz wonders if Zoya reminds Melody of that in a way, perhaps even a way that allows Melody to pretend that it is not true.

“I can’t imagine that someone wouldn’t appreciate you,” Liz says. She’s not just saying it to flatter or make her friend feel better. She means it. She always means it. Liz is gawky and a little socially awkward at times, always half-hidden behind a pair of large, square glasses. She dyes her puffy, impossible hair a deep violet in a secret hope that the oddity of it will outshine the ordinariness of her other features. She lives on coffee and online commissions as she tries to get a “real” job as a graphic designer. Sometimes, when she doesn’t have enough quarters for the laundry, she simply wears one of Dez’s many flannel shirts. She wants to both be like Melody and to be _liked by_ Melody. Neither is likely to ever happen. 

“I know, but sometimes…” Melody runs a hand through her hair distractedly. “Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing, you know? I spend my days solving problems for self-important guys in suits with wallets full of corporate credit cards and it’s interesting and cool and all, but there are days when I stop and am just like, _what am I doing_? You know?”

Liz shakes her head slightly, then stops and gives an awkward little nod. “I think that sometimes. Doesn’t everyone? When you don’t know where your life is going?”

Melody gives a humorless little laugh. “I think I know where it’s going, just not why. Does that sound weird?”

“No. But you could always change paths.”

The irritated little frown on Melody’s face tells Liz she’s hit a nerve. She forgets sometimes that not everyone is like her – some people need stability like they need air. Melody would also probably die if she had to have a roommate. “I can’t be like you, Liz. You fight the good fight and don’t really care what anyone thinks and I…I _want_ things.”

 _And I don’t?_ Liz wants to ask, but she knows that they’re talking about different things. Melody wants recognition, adventurous sex, Las Vegas vacations, her photo on the first page of a newspaper, high rise apartments and corner offices with magnificent views onto downtown. Liz just wants to be happy, a consistent paycheck, Donald Trump to be impeached, and maybe a carton of Ben & Jerry’s. 

She happens to also want Melody. 

It’s really not all the same. 

Melody shakes her head in a gesture Liz recognizes as Melody’s way of saying, _sorry, I’m just being stupid again, forget I said anything._ “I’m not unhappy,” she says out loud. “I’m just stressed a lot and online dating’s a bitch, but I don’t have time to meet girls otherwise. Where would I even do it?”

 _Right here,_ Liz thinks but thankfully doesn’t say. “Jacky could probably introduce you. I think she knows half the county,” Liz says instead. 

Melody laughs. “Maybe.” She glances at her phone. “I should go. I’m giving a speech at a dinner tonight and I need to review it several time. Zoya will probably be there looking stunning and graceful and way straighter than she actually is. I need to make an impression.” 

“I need to get going soon too.”

Melody waves over the waiter. “I’ll pay.”

“What?” Liz starts. She doesn’t have a lot of money, but she’s not about to let her crush pay for her brunch. “I can—”

“No, I want to. I whined so much today—”

“Mel, it’s not a big deal. We always—besides I don’t mind.”

“I know but I want to.” She asks for the bill, then counts out some bills and puts them in the center of the table. “I think that about covers everything and the tip.”

Liz glances at the bills. The amount is almost exact to the dollar. She has no idea when Melody had the time to calculate it. “Sometimes I think you’re magical,” she mutters. 

Melody smiles. She stands, leans over and gives Liz a quick kiss on the cheek. “Only because of you. Good luck on the canvasing.”

“Thanks,” Liz mumbles, fighting the instinct to reach up and touch the place on her cheek where Melody’s lips had just been. 

Melody waves goodbye, flashes her a dazzling smile and strides out the door just as the waiter returns with their bill. For a few minutes, Liz sits there, unable to move, wondering what Melody’s words mean. _Only because of you._ What an odd choice of phrase. Too romantic for an unromantic relationship like theirs. She is probably reading into it all. 

Then Liz’s phone buzzes with a reminder about the canvas meet up. She packs up her messy, useless feelings into a far corner of her heart, pays the bill, and goes to work on that liberal revolution, which is far more likely than the prospect that Melody would ever see her as more than a friend to go to brunch with. 

And yet—

_Only because of you._

__Liz wouldn’t be Liz if she didn’t nurse these secret, outrageous hopes deep inside her gawky, little, coffee-stained heart.


End file.
